


Sam Winchester/Chuck Shurley 3-Sentence AUs

by MajorEnglishEsquire



Series: 3-Sentence AUs [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 3 Sentence Fiction, Alternate Universe, M/M, Memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 15:19:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16915356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorEnglishEsquire/pseuds/MajorEnglishEsquire
Summary: 3-Sentence Alternate Universe mini-fics originally posted on Tumblr, Sam/Chuck edition.





	Sam Winchester/Chuck Shurley 3-Sentence AUs

**Telemarketer I**

> femmechester: sam/chuck, telemarketers?

Chuck answers telemarketing calls because he has no life and he’s a bitter, vindictive bastard, and if you get stuck on the phone because it’s your job not to hang up, and you signed up to call people in their homes at dinnertime, you deserve to get a crazy jerk on the other end who just sits and complains about the cereal he’s eating for supper.

Though, to his surprise, today the guy who calls him laughs and agrees and… recommends vanilla almond milk, “And- okay, I don’t do this all the time, but cocoa powder, too, and it makes your cereal taste like  _ice cream_ , for real!”

They head off on other topics and end up speaking for about 40 minutes before Sam remembers to make his obligatory offer on satellite television service, “but you decline, of course, and you want to tell me if that’s  _How the States Got Their Shapes_  you have on in the background because I’m weirdly addicted to that show,” and they talk about stuff they’ve learned about Kentucky until Sam gives him his personal cell number, “since I’m probably getting fired today,” – Chuck is maybe a little in love.

 

**Telemarketer II**

> Anonymous: 3 sentence follow up to the Sam X Chuck telemarketer pretty please?

They don’t live in the same city, but near enough that, when Sam finally gets a decent amount of time off at his new job and he can borrow his brother’s car, he drives out to the bar they agreed upon – still on the phone the whole time because Chuck keeps saying how he’s worried that Sam is gonna hate him in real life and the only way to make sure he actually meets there is to keep talking.

“Okay, I’m in the blue jacket with, um,” Sam looks down at himself, “blue plaid underneath, I’m in jeans, I’m under the salon sign,” he has to say, because he’s been looking and he can’t spot where Chuck is no matter how many directions he gives… which is apparently because Chuck’s only a little more than half his height, he realizes as a man on a cell phone approaches him.

Sam can feel himself smiling wide, like a total dope as he hangs up and watches Chuck do the same, coming in closer and smiling tentatively, so, to assure Chuck that he’s not gonna be the one to fuck this up, Sam jumps right in with the goofiest thing he can fucking think of: “Hey, wow, no wonder I couldn’t see you,” they laugh, “so, am I coming down there or are you gonna stand on your tip-toes?”

 

**911 Dispatcher**

> murderfeathers: sam x chuck, sam is a 911 dispatcher

Sam’s brother helps him avoid the press while sneaking into the hospital - the hostage situation was a very long and publicized ordeal and a lot of the people in his office had victims on the line with them for hours who just didn’t end up making it, but Sam kept his alive, helped him hide his phone and listened helplessly through gunfire and beatings and now he just wants to  _see_ , see for real that he kept the guy alive.

He avoids all the prying eyes and explains to one of the cops on duty on the second floor who he is and he’s let through to Chuck Shurley’s room - and it’s empty– or seemingly empty, though he emerges from the nearby bathroom fully dressed and picking at a bandage on the back of his hand.

Chuck stops in his tracks and Sam starts to speak and he startles, says, “Oh my god,  _you’re real_ , holy shit,” he looks looks like he’s on the verge of a breakdown, “if you wouldn’t mind saving me one more time,” he sniffles, “I’d really like to get the hell out of here,” he begs, and Sam just can’t say no, gets him downstairs so Dean can smuggle them out again.

 

**Stripper Sam**

> lokirogers: sam/chuck stripper au

Chuck can’t believe he’s been out of college just long enough that his old roommates are getting married and just recent enough that there’s a male stripper here kicking off the bachelor party as a gag, for them to make a big fat homophobic fucking joke and rib each other and– it’s really intolerable but the beer is free and, actually, the stripper is really hot, not that anyone would know to ask him… so he just sits to the side and tries not to stare and laughs on cue and excuses himself early, only to find… that the stripper is waiting outside, bundled again and rubbing his hands together and then he offers one as Chuck descends the front steps, down to the sidewalk, “Sam,” he introduces himself, “I heard your name - Chuck, right?” He blinks and nods and shrugs and… shakes his hand, “Um, I’m walking you to your car,” Sam announces, and the fact that Chuck walked all the way downtown doesn’t shake him off, “I’m walking you home,” he amends, “because you looked really uncomfortable and I just wanted to make sure you’re alright, is that cool?” Well, yeah, of course, because, again, HOT STRIPPER, and, well, he’s just tipsy enough to say that and it makes Sam laugh, “Okay, um, thanks - so that means we can have a coffee when we get back to yours and, um… I can come back and pick you up and take you to dinner tomorrow,” he sounds unsure about his plan but like he’s quite determined and Chuck isn’t about to argue and it feels a lot better to stare at Sam with his clothes on and imagine being the lucky guy who gets to find them on his bedroom floor in the morning.

 

**Dogwalker**

> femmechester: sam/chuck, dogwalker au

Chuck looks up at the rustling one minute too late - he was concentrating on a paragraph and wanted to get it on paper before being interrupted by what he had  _thought_ was just the wind… but was actually a dog digging through his bag, next to the bench, and there he goes, running after a mutt like he’s actually still gonna eat his damn sandwich after it’s been in an animal’s mouth.

The dogwalker apologizes when he snags the dog by the collar and comes back over to where Chuck is panting over his knees from the chase, “Dammnit, I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve got like twelve of them to watch today, I’m really,  _really_ sorry- I can– I can buy you lunch?”

Chuck gets his oxygen back and stands straight and looks up… and… up and up and, yeah, he really needed that, he’s a starving artist for christ’s sake, he’s almost out of cheese and he has no idea when he’ll be able to buy more but, not much accounting for common sense when his gut swoops with love-at-first-sight and his breath is stolen all over again and he stutters, “You, uh, you could, um, buy me dinner, instead?”

 

**Powerball I**

> outpastthemoat: Chuck and Sam buying power ball tickets AU

“Okay, so this is gonna sound really strange,” Chuck starts before he hands his money over to the clerk, “but can you drop them and short me a dollar in change, because you did that last time I bought scratchers and I won $300.”

Sam stares at him, eyes going wider until-

“I’m totally serious and it’s okay that you were having a *bit of a day* last time - believe me, I totally understand - but I think you were good luck and you can keep the extra dollar or whatever and– I just wanna recreate conditions for optimal ju-ju.”

He blinks now, and then… drops his lotto tickets, hands him a dollar less in change and his receipt, because, “This is the first and only time in my life anyone has ever called me ‘good luck’, I mean, wow, just, I hope it works,” he laughs a little and Chuck shakes his head because–

“Seriously, if this works I’m just taking you home with me next time-” and he pauses, blinks, they both blush, and he bumps into another customer trying to get out of there as fast as possible.

 

**Powerball II**

> murderfeathers: ahhh but ;; follow up to the powerball au?

The next time Chuck goes in to get lotto and… actually he shops a little while and waits… and then comes back later in the day… and then comes back the next day and the next… until he concludes that Sam must not be working at the front anymore – or possibly for this company at all because he can’t find him on the salesfloor or any of the other registers… the woman behind the counter smacks her gum and shakes her head, “Sam  _isn’t with the company anymore_ ,” she emphasizes the words, wide-eyed and meaningful, then leans in, says quietly, “his till came up heavy and they found out he was intentionally overcharging people for lotto, can you believe it?”

Holy fuck, Chuck is absolutely responsible for this, so he asks Jo if she’ll tell him where he moved on to and she says he got in at the new Wawa somehow, so Chuck makes a bee-line for it and the first thing Sam does is cringe and look sorry, about to say he can’t be Chuck’s good-luck charm anymore– “No, no,” Chuck shakes his head, “no fucking way, it wasn’t good luck if that’s the price we paid for it, so, I mean, I’ll talk to your old manager and get that off your record because you don’t deserve it - I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

He tries to make that the end of it (even quits the lotto entirely because it was just a fun thing it was never supposed to go  _dark_ ), but, one day he visits the same place for groceries and Sam pops out of a car and hands him something in an envelope, “I played your numbers,” he explains, “and that’s your share since they’re your numbers and my luck,” though, really, Chuck comments, now it’s  _their_  numbers and  _their_  luck.

 

**Lifeguard Sam**

> outpastthemoat: Chuck being saved from drowning by lifeguard Sam AU

He’s the first thing Chuck sees when he coughs and sputters back to life, so of course he falls in love, his hair dripping down on Chuck, wet, sand-dusted muscles, and, still short of breath, keeping his hands at Chuck’s face telling him he’s okay, telling everyone else to back off.

There are other lifeguards in the area, so Sam goes to the hospital with him and Chuck gets to watch him dry out, breathe relief when the doctor announces that Sam didn’t break his ribs, that there’s no lasting damage and he did everything right - did his job and saved somebody.

“I should teach you how to get out of a riptide,” Sam says, offering a hand to help him hop off the examination table and to the floor, and Chuck takes him up on it, takes him up on diving lessons, too, and spends a lot of time getting pruney with him for two long summers before Sam wonders aloud if his second life ought to start on the beach, too, and he hands Chuck a ring.

 

**Fender Bender Version I**

> femmechester: Fender bender au

The other guy is still behind the wheel of his car, head in his hands, absolutely defeated, so crumpled Sam is sure he must have seriously hurt the guy, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry- _so_ sorry,” he’s already babbling as he just grabs for the handle and opens the door - it’s an older car and it isn’t locked, squeals open, and he can see the man is shaking, too, when he finally drops a hand to put it in park and scrabble at his belt buckle, “can you talk, are you- are you hurt??”

Sam finally reaches to help him with the seatbelt and doesn’t get shoved away, but as he bolts back just to get out of his space, Sam hears him sob, “Oh fuck, oh  _fuck_ , that was scary  _holy fuck_ , I’ll never be able to pay- shit, I’m so fucking screwed, I-”

“Hey, hey,” Sam crouches next to him, “take a deep breath, it’s okay, it was me, not you – I’m totally responsible, I’ll admit it, I’ll call the cops and everything just - just tell me you’re okay, we need to know if anything’s broken-”

“I don’t-” he looks up, and he’s so shocked it’s like he doesn’t even know he’s crying, “I don’t have insurance, I don’t have-”

“No, seriously, it’s okay, I’ll pay, it’s alright – as long as you’re  _okay???_ ”

He seems to check himself and take a breath and, “I think I’m alright,” he moves his arms and shifts to climb out so Sam helps him, gets him standing and-

He kind of tumbles into Sam but it really does just look like shock (Sam’s car hit his really suddenly, it rattled them both but Sam is definitely not the victim here, not with him looking like this), so Sam helps him up, careful and ready to back away when he lashes out for what Sam has done to him… only he doesn’t, “It wasn’t all your fault, it’s okay, we’ll work on it, we don’t really have to call the cops and– are- shit,” he looks up and up almost looking surprised at Sam’s height, “are you okay, I mean…” he trails off and doesn’t finish, sniffles and… is it weird to really just wanna hug and comfort the guy you just got into a wreck with?

 

**Flustered Waiter**

> femmechester: Sam’s a waiter and Chuck fucking spills water everywhere or makes him dump a tray

He does it  _every time_  he sees the guy and so Sam knows, from the jump, it’s 100% hopeless - Sam trips over things or says something too loud in the sudden quiet of the dining room or spills stuff and– he just knows he sees the guy all the time and he’s small and handsome and has the most beautiful crinkles around his eyes - Sam’s almost willing to blame his favorite repeat customer for all the drinks he spills.

It finally happens, of course, because they must be the closest, most economic semi-fancy sit-down restaurant nearest to his work: a large party comes in for a lunch worksession and Sam gets the table – hot guy is sitting at the damn table, at the far corner seat.

He looks up at Sam when he orders and Sam hears, in conversation, that his name is Chuck, but no one at the table makes him smile so Sam kind of despairs of seeing his eyes shine like that today… until the very, very end, when Chuck is among the last of the party to thank the servers and leave and Sam is too busy watching him go to look and he– trips, dumps a stack of plates and– it’s mortifying that Chuck stops to help, really fucking embarrassing, but he swears it’s alright

and he smiles, just for Sam.

 

**Chuck Meets Vegetables**

> femmechester: Farmers market vendor Sam and customer Chuck.

“You look overwhelmed,” Sam smiles and the man turns his wide-eyed blinking on him, then, almost cautiously, he approaches the Winchester farm stand - Sam tosses one of their almonds at him just to see if he’ll wake up and catch it; he does with a weird little noise of protest.

“Um, I think Taco Bell is killing me but I don’t have the money to eat healthy, so I was told the farmer’s market is my best option,” he looks at the almond like he didn’t know they came in tiny cases.

Sweet summer child, he looks like the only lettuce he’s ever seen has been inside a taco salad; Sam whistles for Dean to stop flirting and man the register, and comes around the stand to start showing him the various vendors,“This is called ‘fruit’,” he holds up an orange and laughs when the short, fuzzy (cute) little man rolls his eyes at him.

 

**Editorials**

> outpastthemoat: Sam/Chuck "I read the paper every morning just for your editorials and it's the best part of my day" au

Sam is in early every day, quite frankly, so he can leave early every day - and, so, about the time he’s in need of a second coffee and desperate to get away from the inanity of his coworkers, he takes his lunch way early and crosses the street to where they make his drink perfectly and they’ve set aside a paper for him, and he depressurizes with this one really thought-provoking writer from the local paper.

Every piece makes him think hard about stuff he never questioned, or gives him a new perspective on things he already knew - it’s refreshing and gives him a moment to breathe – until the one day when he lowers the paper and that breath gets caught up in his chest. They don’t always have the pictures of the authors accompanying pieces, but this face is still as familiar to Sam as someone he sees everyday:

Carver Edlund is at the table in front of him and Sam stares so long he looks up –

“Um, hi,” he says across their two tables, eyebrows raised, and Sam had no idea how much he needed to hear the voice that went along with these words… so he straightens up, picks up his coffee, and leaves the paper - sits across from him and says,

“Yeah, hi.”

 

**Marriage License**

> outpastthemoat: Sam/Chuck "we got married but we haven't picked up our marriage licence and I'm freaking out because WHAT IF WE'RE NOT REALLY MARRIED" au

It could mean any of a hundred things that the paperwork hasn’t gone through, but, “Sweetheart, I’m a lawyer, I’m  _your_ lawyer,  _our_ lawyer, you gotta trust me,” he takes Chuck’s face in his hands, tries to stop his frantic movements and pacing, “I know we did it right; I know we’re legal, okay? We’re married and nothing anyone says can tell me otherwise-”

“But  _legally_ is one thing, there’s all these douchey county magistrates and court clerks and people refusing to issue licences-”

“And you know how much I would love to take our marriage to the supreme court because someone tried to step on it,” Sam grins, “it would be a dream-come-true to parade you around and show everybody how we’re fighting for our love-”

“Oh my god stop,” Chuck whimpers, “you’re the worst.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, “you love that about me,” he says, more sure of that than ever before, “but I would get a stupid kick out of it, so you know it’s not gonna happen - you’re just gonna have to settle for being regular-old legally married to me,” he shakes his head like in sympathy and, exasperated, Chuck rolls his eyes and kisses him again.

 

**Travel Channel**  

> murderfeathers: sam x chuck, chuck's a snarky travel show host and sam's like his biggest fan

He flipped his shit when he first got an email back from the producers - they were going on his tip for the greatest restaurant in Omaha and wanted to thank him - it wasn’t until two seasons in that he actually got an email from the host, Chuck, thanking him for all his work and personally letting him know that, unfortunately, they were trying to move to another network because the Travel Channel was too restrictive as far as where they’d let him explore; so the show was over.

Sam was between destinations, driving, hauling cross-country still when he got the email so he didn’t answer it right away and wondered, for months, if that delay meant he’d never hear from him again – until the old producer got in contact with Sam and asked when he’d next be closest to New York.

They set up a meeting; he took another guy’s shift so he’d be able to swing close enough when they needed to meet him, and he was told that it was going to be for a location scouting credit – but when he shows up, there’s a short guy huddled at one of the coffee shop tables in a hoodie that Sam is pretty sure he’s seen in two episodes:

There he is - Chuck, in the flesh, looking up and rising to meet him, and quiet and courteous and not at all brash like he is on tv, but… somehow soft and welcoming and exceedingly thankful, “and not that you- I mean not to barge into your life unannounced, but, um,” Chuck takes a deep breath, “how happy are you with your job right now, because we- well, if you still like traveling as much as y-”

“I’ll do it,” Sam blurts, probably grinning ear-to-ear, and watching Chuck’s face light up the same way.

 

**Autumn**

> tarastarr1: 3 sentence prompt: Sam/Chuck, fall is finally here.

For half a week every year, Sam’s best friend becomes a total stranger to him – when the Pumpkin Spice Latte arrives, it hits their daily routine like a fucking late-season hurricane, scattering their study plans to the four winds.

Chuck binges on them at least twice a day for as many as five days before he realizes that everything is suddenly pumpkin-spiced and all at once he’s sick of it - but here Sam is, in line for, yes, actually, the  _fourth_ time today – they hit a different Starbucks or do the drive-through or walk in, depending how much Chuck actually gains enough awareness in the throes of his seasonal stupor to have a little shame about how often they’re here – and Sam is clenched-hands, ordering at the drive-thru with Chuck beside him in the passenger seat, hoodie pulled up, sunglasses on tight, trying for an incognito look.

This time when Sam hands the drink over so he can dig up tip money, Chuck is a little slow to snatch it from his hands; he doesn’t learn what that’s about until they’re driving away: “Fucking christ, you must really love me,” Chuck marvels for a moment before he can’t help himself and carefully pries off the lid to hold it in front of the a/c vent, cool the latte down to a guzzle-able temperature, “I don’t know if I have to do anything like this for you every yea-”

“I’m sure you do,” Sam cuts him off, sighs like he’s exasperated, like he’s not trying to think too hard about that or what it betrays or how he probably wouldn’t feel so burdened by it if he had a chance to kiss the stupid flavoring out of his stupid mouth, “drink your damn fall fluff.”

 

**Breakfast Negotiations**

> inthebackoftheimpala: Sam and chuck, breakfast negotiations

The standing agreements consist of the following: at least once every other weekend, there will be french toast (Sam knows how to make it, so he’s the one who decides when that will happen and, yes, he promises); at least once every two months Sam will sit down and consume chocolate chip pancakes with him, YES SAM, with the whip cream and everything, there’s no worming out of this; Chuck will make breakfast burritos whenever Sam asks for them, he does not have to beg and it does not have to be breakfast time; oatmeal is yucky so Sam can eat that on THAT SIDE of the table; if they’re having tea, Sam will make it and if they’re having coffee, Chuck will make it, but they share pots, they don’t split up.

These are the rules and they didn’t have to talk them out but whenever Sam said, “So, are we always gonna do it this way” and Chuck said “Don’t you like doing it this way” and Sam said “Oh my GOD yes” they were pretty well cemented into the relationship – they don’t like rules, in general, but pre-caffeine structure is actually a good thing to have.

Dishes are the inevitable result of these activities and that is what they finally have to talk out loud about and negotiate, because “Sam, when you don’t wash the milk out of your cereal bowl, and it sits for DAYS, that’s why the sink ends up stinking,” he points out, and Sam slumps, caught – but this doesn’t have to be a bad thing, it can be something else they share, “So, look,” Chuck says, “I know this is cheesily domestic, but what if we both stand here and do the dishes and decide that the person who did the cooking can do the drying-” and, okay, maybe that could have gone unspoken, too, because Sam  _loves_ cheesily domestic.

 

** Fender Bender Version II **

> murderfeathers: sam x chuck, chuck? mildly rear-ends car in front of him bc the person behind him in his rearview mirror is unfairly and v distractingly beautiful and now he's stupidly shaken up by the crash and a HUGE IDIOT and today sucks

And the only good thing to come out of this entire experience is that the guy stopped - so he’s not only gorgeous, but he’s a good guy - and checked to make sure they were alright, and helped Chuck hop out of the car and up to the sidewalk when he didn’t realize he’d crunched his knee really badly… though, on the minus side, he must not have a job because he just stays there until the cops arrive.

He laughs when Chuck mumbles something like that, still shocked and sniffling back panic and tears; he offers Chuck a napkin, snagged from his cupholder, “I do have a job, it just…” he wavers, “well, it doesn’t have traditional hours,” he moves around Chuck to sit next to him on the sidewalk and they watch the other guy pace back and forth, already ranting and raving at his insurance guy - too busy with that to give Chuck his own insurance info, the hot guy has noted.

“I won’t let him book it, don’t worry,” he leans into Chuck a little, nudges him gently, “I saw everything, he was totally on that phone as soon it happened and he got out of the car, so he must have been distracted on it the entire time,” he whispers and Chuck doesn’t know if he’s supposed to laugh and return the wink and he only hiccups and says

“Thanks, but you don’t need to-”

“I saw everything,” he insists, “and you don’t know me, so I’m an objective third party, but… you know,” he glances out to traffic again, “maybe if your car is fucked you’re gonna need a ride to a walk-in clinic or something and… then maybe I can tell you my name and… and we can-”

“Oh thank god,” Chuck says, mental filter still firmly wedged between their two crunched cars and utterly useless to him, “I mean fuck insurance numbers, yours is really the only one I wanted.”

 

**Summer Vacation**

> tarastarr1: Sam/chuck, summer vacation?

Teachers get paid squat so, when school gets out on the 12th, they have exactly fourteen days before they’re going to be teaching summer classes and hosting workshops for teachers’ aids – that’s why, when Sam gets home, he slips in fast and slams the door shut, throws the locks, and practically collides with his husband, who waited there for him, naked.

Chuck’s commute is a little shorter, so he had time to uncork the booze and strip before Sam broke his fastest traffic record by about eight minutes in order to get home to him and start two weeks of screwing on every possible surface in their apartment without so much as a buzz of a phone or the possibility of hearing kids playing out on a beach or in the halls of a hotel - they couldn’t risk it; it had to be a staycation and they ordered lube online well ahead of time, in lieu of plane tickets.

It’s dark, as far as summer vacations go, but it is intoxicating and indulgent; they do get some color in their skin, sleeping naked, with the blinds slatted open on the summer sun, lounging until they’re up for it again, wasting not  _one minute_  of those two, precious weeks.

 

**AU from 04.18**

> Anonymous: Chuck x Sam ep4x18 au?  
>  (a/n You know for a fact this doesn’t count as an AU you lil punkass. And you knew I was gonna do it anyway.)

Before he leaves the motel – before he leaves Sam alone to head in the direction that the story’s going, before he lets him go down this awful path that’s gonna end in his destruction – Chuck says, “I know what you guys are doing and it’s not gonna work- the thing with trying to change your behaviors so you don’t follow the story, it’s crap and you’re only playing right into it, it won’t do the trick.”

Sam presses the door closed again and considers him, “So, I mean, do you have any idea what would change the course of the day if Dean’s whole scheme isn’t working out?”

“Well, there’s one possibility that could throw the whole fucking plot for a loop but you won’t go for it and just- I– you know what, it’s a crazy idea and I-” he watches the hope leave Sam one more time and he can’t stand it so he finishes his absolutely  _bonkers_  idea out loud: “You could always just… run away with me?”

 

**Comic Shop**

> hisroyalhellishness: If you're still doing 3-Sentences, Sam/Chuck comic shop AU?

This guy starts coming in and he seems a little older, awkward and quiet and maybe a little mean like the other damn neckbeards who bother Sam while he’s trying to read… but, no, he really does wait until Sam’s at a stopping point or already handling a line of customers to step up and sell his cards. He’s got a huge collection of decent Magic cards he’s getting rid of, using his store credit on graphic novels and seeming to keep the cash when the owner gives Sam the nod.  
  
Then he disappears for a few days– and comes back with what he saved when Sam’s off the clock for the day, “Don’t have enough for anything fancy, but,” he hesitates, “but I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner, anyway?” 

 

**Celeb x Papz**

> Anonymous: Sam x Chuck, celebrity and paparazzi AU?

He’s in the habit of ignoring the papz by now but maybe he ignores them too much… his agent is gonna fucking kill him and he’s gonna get sued by this guy and then there’s gonna be stories all over the news about how he beat up a photographer, all because he can’t keep his giant limbs under control. The best he can do is help the guy up (he’s so short, it’s no wonder Sam hardly noticed he was there and elbowed him in the head) and be as nice and apologetic about it as he possibly can and ask the guy’s name and shake his hand and stand still for a few photos and call before Bela sees it on Twitter in five minutes.

She does holler and snipe at him… and then calls back with a surprising development ten minutes later: apparently the guy didn’t want Sam getting blamed for the spill, took responsibility, and didn’t answer the questions of fellow press when they wanted to know what happened – Sam’s so relieved he makes Bela get his number and personally invite him to the next premier.

 

**Vet Sam**

> lokirogers: sam/chuck veterinarian au?

He feels just awful about this, but there’s no other way of putting it - his girlfriend got the dog so they’d stay together and Chuck knows not one goddamn thing about taking care of a dog and when he told Becky it was over, she left the dog so they could be miserable together – and he’s not miserable, but he’s miserable at taking care of pets because this is like the third time the poor girl has developed a wicked rash and been whimpery and miserable and he’s got to do something - the dog wasn’t a damn device, she is a creature who shouldn’t have been used this way.

He’s never been to a vet’s office before and they only just fit him in at the end of the day and it’s wild because he doesn’t have to say anything - the guy just comes into the room and puts the clipboard aside and starts talking to the dog like he’s so sorry she’s having the worst day ever and he pets her and looks her over and asks what Chuck has been feeding her and pinpoints the problem right away, “food allergy, we have to give her something for the reaction and you gotta try a different type of food, okay?”

Chuck blinks and he must look even more lost than he feels because the vet goes so far as to leave the assistants to close up shop and he goes to the store with him and the puppy, helps him get food and a leash and a new bed for her and toys she goes wild over and when the cashier chats them up at the end of the trip, she mistakes them for a couple and… Sam doesn’t seem offended – in fact, he laughs, blushes a little, “we’d be a cute couple,” he says, grins, looks away, and Chuck has a feeling this is not just the complete opposite of what Becky intended with the dog but, like, the  _alternate fucking universe_  of what she first intended.

 

**Activist Sam**

> animamosaic: Sam x Chuck, activist!Sam is protesting something and Chuck just wants to get into the Starbucks.

He’s not unsympathetic to what’s going on with the teacher’s union, but it’s like, you know, 7:15 in the goddamn morning and he’s barely human without his caffeine and he’ll be damned if he’ll drink the swill in the break room and – they all give him the fucking dirtiest look when he edges around the picket line. There’s cursing and they’re even roused into a chant but he’s barely got the English required to order his damn drink, let alone explain himself– luckily he doesn’t have to, and a long-haired man in a teacherly sweater with a sign tells his fellows to back off, “The guy’s just trying to get into the coffee shop??”

They look a little guilty and step aside and Chuck is just… so grateful - he gets a huge bottle of water with his order and hands it to the man when he steps back outside and makes sure to tell him, “No, seriously, I understand what you guys are going through and I hope the administration shapes up,” and that’s all it takes to walk away with hot-teacher’s number.

 

** Haunted Condo **

> outpastthemoat: Chuck and Sam buying a haunted condo AU

“Cold spots,” is the first thing the ‘hunter’ asks them about and the thing that most immediately sticks in Chuck’s mind after they leave the condo to have it cleared so they can  _finally_  move the rest of their stuff in.

“I donno- besides the things getting thrown across the room, how would you feel about just… leaving it,” Chuck shrugs, “we could just tell them not to bother-”

“You’re kidding,” Sam says wide-eyed.

“Well, like, I donno, it could keep the place cold in the summer and even if it’s freezing in the winter… I was kind of enjoying that it made you cuddle me all night,” he looks kind of caught out but Sam really just has to hug him for that.

 

**Book Autograph**

> outpastthemoat: Sam standing in line to get an autograph from semi-famous writer Chuck AU

He sticks out… somewhat bigger than a sore thumb because, you know, WOW he’s tall, and he grins like a real goddamn charmer so, by the time he makes it to the front of the (admittedly short) line, Chuck is already almost as excited to meet him as the fan seems, “Sam,” he says, “I’m Sam and I– it’s just, your stories are so great, they’re a lot like the fiction I’d pick up when I was traveling a lot as a kid and I just ate up story after story - barely visited all the towns we ever went to because I had my nose buried in a book the whole time but– I mean, yeah, your stories are like that I just lo-love them,” he stumbles over the word, inadvertently meeting Chuck’s eyes at the same time but it isn’t creepy, it’s really sweet.

Chuck gladly signs the three books he brought up and adds his email address to the back of the last one - his personal account with his real name - while Sam enthuses and just rattles off about his favorite characters, so much so that it doesn’t seem he sees that Chuck’s written a few lines under his email address, “It was great talking with you - hope you’ll share more of your stories about stories.”

In fact, he’s sure that Sam doesn’t see him do it because he only gets an email a few weeks later, after Sam has taken his time re-reading those he signed, and finally gets to the back of the last, “I’m sorry I didn’t see this before, I was so shocked - both at the offer and to learn your real name - I just have to ask before I invade your life, if you will please tell me you meant it, because I’ve been told I’m a little overwhelming :) ” – he did mean it, though and tells Sam he would love to be overwhelmed by him.

 

**Floral Shop**

> Anonymous: Sorry if it's too late for the 3 sentence AU, but Sam/Chuck, floral shop AU? Thanks!

Sam is busy getting an order ready for a wedding, running his tail off, just like all the other staff - unfortunately that means that, sometimes, the front register is abandoned while people juggle arrangements or run out to the van and, when he runs back in, there’s a man waiting patiently up there for someone to help him; he hasn’t rung the bell or anything.

“You guys look, like, way busy,” he says, “look, I can go to another shop, this isn’t urgent - or, I mean, come back later or whatever I–” he pauses and Sam just tells him it’s fine, he can take an order, nevermind the chaos and- “my dad died, um, my dad just died.”

Hard to handle a bomb like that except to say he’s sorry, and the guy only nods, “So am I, even if he was a bastard, and I need to send flowers home so they don’t think I hated his guts even if I hated his guts and h-he was my d-dad and he d-died and,” he just bursts out crying and Sam can say, in all honesty, he knows exactly how that feels, to loathe and love your family at the same time, so, just because he’s got the order information, he makes sure to call the guy (his name is Chuck) back after a couple days to make sure he’s alright; make sure he knows he’ll feel better, even if it takes a while.

 

**State Trooper**

> femmechester: Sam’s a state trooper who pulls Chuck over when he panics and runs a red light

He’s wide-eyed and he’s got both hands firmly on the steering wheel - he knows exactly what just happened and Sam can see the crippling fear in them, the absolute certainty that the hammer of the law is about to drive him directly into the ground, but, well, Sam isn’t having the most coordinated day, either and, instead of asking for his licence and registration, he just leans on the door and says, “it was the yellow threshold, wasn’t it?”

“IT WAS THE YELLOW THRESHOLD,” he busts out, “it was that stupid in-between time where you’re not sure if you have enough room to stop or it would be safer to gun it-”

“Not that you’re supposed to gun it-”

“And I gunned it,” he concludes his outburst pathetically.

“Err on the side of caution and just stop for me next time, okay, I don’t want that to get you a ticket,” and he stands and starts walking back and hears:

“Um… that’s it, that’s all you’re-”

He leans back down a little, “Yeah, but if anyone asks, tell ‘em you flirted your way out of a ticket today,” he winks and waits for the confused smile and… the next day the section chief calls him into his office to tell him about the citizen commendation on his record for ‘helping someone out on the side of the road’ and since he hasn’t done that lately, he looks up Mr. Shurley’s name and… yeah, matches it to the car he let go yesterday.

 

**Sober Bartender**

> femmechester: Chuck the sober bartender

Some shitstain gets mad at him for not throwing one back when he buys shots for the entire bar - honestly, any of the other bartenders would and maybe he could just throw it behind him, fake it, but he’s calling for the good stuff and Chuck just wants to pour orders and, like, he so  _sincerely_ doesn’t wanna deal with this right now. He thought maybe, “I’m good,” would be good enough, but, for Tough-Guy here, it’s not and inevitably he wants to grab Chuck’s scrawny neck across the bar for a completely imagined slight and–

He’s ripped away, Chuck can breathe again, nothing fuzzy around the edges, he falls back against the cash register and tries to stay standing, tries to keep breathing, coughs, watches as two big guys haul the bastard out.

One of the men comes back in and announces, “Guess what-” presents a flapping fold of money, “shots are still on the house” and there’s an uproar, but it’s the other one who brings the cash over, comes to the side and checks on him as the first dude passes the standing shots out and nods over, a signal to his friend, takes a bottle of cheaper stuff and continues on and-

Chuck is gonna protest but needs to cough again, and the taller guy is there, steadying him with a big hand, “You’re alright,” he says, “my brother will take care of it, you wanna sit down for a second-” he pulls him over to the corner booth and they sit for a long time until enough of the trauma falls away from Chuck to joke with him a little.

 

**EMT Chuck**

> femmechester: EMT Chuck and Sam that one ER doctor he always catches a glimpse of and who’s always nice to him but that he’s never really spoken to.

One day, it just gets busier at Lawrence Memorial and it doesn’t get any less busy over the next two months - EMTs don’t exactly share quarters with hospital staff day in and day out so it takes Chuck a while to learn that Dr. Crowley was finally shitcanned, to everybody’s relief, but it still left a gap in service that they have to rush to fill each day.

Likewise to the gossip situation, Chuck can’t say that he *knows* Dr. Winchester, other than that he’s kind and careful and tells the littlest kids they can call him ‘Sam’… and his smile has been M.I.A. for a few weeks, now, as Chuck sees him during more and more shifts and he looks increasingly tired.

They’ve got a lull between calls one day and he spots Sam on a bench with a sad sandwich and a sadder expression, so Chuck finally sits by him and introduces himself and asks if there’s anything he can do; but, at a loss, Sam just shrugs, so Chuck offers to take him to the café across the street and offers the only other thing he knows for sure he can: company and an open set of ears – Sam looks so relieved, and accepts.

 

**Spring Break**

> outpastthemoat: Sam/Chuck "it's spring break and i think spring breaks are dumb but it's butt-ass cold in fucking connecticut and my roommate told me you're going to florida" au

Sam cocks his head and stutters for a moment before he says, “well, yeah, but, like… I don’t even know you, so-”

“I understand, and I understand that this is TOTALLY weird, but I have money,” and, in all fucking sincerity, he starts pulling money out of his fucking jacket pockets, counting it right there and then, comes up with “$368.74, like, that’s a lot of gas, and like, some decent food money and - come on,” he wheedles, sounding desperate, “I can sleep on the couch- THE FLOOR– I can sleep in the CAR when you get to whatever hotel, just let me shower once and I’ll pay my way-”

Sam waves him off, “I’m not gonna make you sleep in the fucking car-” and, yeah, he realizes what he just said there and that makes it seem like he’s gonna let him come with… this was seriously supposed to be him, on his own, getting over a breakup and, well, granted, the more he thinks about having 10 days on his own, the more lonely it sounds so– “I won’t make yo– you can, um, yeah, sure, you can come with,” he shrugs, “um, I’m leaving at 4 p.m. on Friday, though, so-”

“Got it,” he gives a thumbs-up, his whole face lights up, and he starts backing away, “the big dangerous black car, 4 p.m., Friday, I’ll be there – I’ll be there,  _I swear!_ ”

–

And he is there, bundled and still shivering, and ready to hop into the car with just a bag and a backpack, so Sam opens the trunk and then unlocks the front and they have a silent ride out of town until the car has really heated up and Chuck shudders one more time, takes off his jacket, and seems to finally breathe; finally ease up and let go.

He always seemed like an uptight little nervous roadrunner type, not someone Sam had the energy to put up with, but the ride is pleasant, and when they start talking, they realize how much they have in common – Sam really didn’t expect it to be this easy to talk to him, and is kinda sorry he never tried before, and by the time they actually make it to the motel, Sam is redesigning his whole beach getaway in his head: he can’t actually spend the whole time getting sloppy drunk and hooking up… or he seriously risks making Chuck his post-breakup rebound and that…. just wouldn’t be enough.

 

**Casino Heist**

> murderfeathers: sam x chuck casino heist au

He’s in debt -  _deeply_ in debt - so the Winchesters know that he’ll say yes because  _Crowley_ tells them he’ll say yes: he’s trying to climb out of a financial hole and he has a few very specific technical skills that can help their little team of misfits rig video gambling machines. It’s a small part of the plan, but it keeps becoming a larger part of the scheme as brother number two, Sam, pries more and more into his skillset - yes, he can rig this, yes, he can rig that - and, intrigued, Sam seems to be hauling him in closer, making him a core piece of the team – he really doesn’t know why.

But he figures it out, the night before, when they’re getting a little tipsy (not too drunk, not when they’ve got a schedule that has to be so exact), and talking about what they’ll do with their winnings; Chuck is partial to his limbs so he knows all of it will be going to Crowley; he can’t really play their dreamy little game, but Sam doesn’t play either, until everyone except Chuck has wandered off for the night, “I’d spend it on you,” he says into his glass, “since you won’t get to- I mean, that is, if you want to, if I could-” he finally looks up, “if we make it out of this alive and if maybe you’d… um, if I could take you to someplace, you know, someplace not Vegas - Paris, Rome,… dinner?”

 

** Chiropractor **

> murderfeathers: sam x chuck, chiropractor/badly in need of a chiropractor

Chuck has never been wild about the idea of other people touching him, so he says that right up front; he can’t stop shaking and he knows this is supposed to help his old injuries and probably help with his stressed-out shoulders, but he can’t stop thinking about the creepy way that people squeeze his arm in passing at work, or the way his arm was wrenched when he was mugged, those cold hands grabbing for him, throwing him, making him collide with a brick wall and shaking up a world he thought he was stable and safe inside of.

He says to call him Sam and that it’s okay, “Plenty of people feel that way when they first come in - and sometimes they can’t shake the feeling and they just don’t like it - but I promise I won’t surprise you, I’ll ask before I touch you, and I won’t touch you where you’d rather I didn’t, okay?”

Well, he can’t say no - he doesn’t wanna live his life medicated, so he’s out of options to fix his shoulder and knee, so he lets himself be moved around and pawed at when Sam asks; true to his word, he always makes sure Chuck is prepared for the feeling of his hands and, by the end, for such a big guy to have been so exceedingly gentle and so quiet and careful with him, and realizing that the twinging is finally gone, his knee is tired but not locked in place anymore – relieved tears come to his eyes and he feels silly but Sam asks if he can hug him… by that time he can’t imagine saying no.

 

**Hurricane**

> outpastthemoat: Sam/Chuck "there's a hurricane going on outside and we're bailing water out of our living room but I'm so pissed at you right now"

For the chaos of the moment, the wind whipping outside, rattling the windows and crashing the bushes into the side of the house, the slosh of their naked ankles through the water as they dredge up buckets of it to take to the tub and pour out, there is a stony silence between them - they weren’t prepared for this, thought they had settled far enough up the coast not to have to worry about it, but here they are, angry at each other, tense and scared from the storm, and poorly underinsured for how badly the house has flooded.

Neither of them are to blame - they had to go where Sam’s job took them - but the situation is too frantic for them to understand that they’ll look back on this and laugh when they’re deciding between carpet and tile for a second time; they’re freaked enough and the storm just  _won’t stop_  and– there go the lights.

Sam can’t help himself - he’s the first to break, dropping his bucket, defeated, illuminated by the dim grey outside, beyond the duct-taped Xs on the windows, and Chuck loses all his fight watching Sam break like that, put his hands over his mouth and sobs like he can’t do this anymore – like he’s giving up… so Chuck drops his bucket, too, splashes over to him and pulls him down to whisper that it’s okay, to kiss him and if they’re gonna give up or keep fighting, they’ll have to do either of those together; this time, they grab what they can, load up into Sam’s car, and lock themselves inside, drive out and around the yard to where the house will at least protect them from the most violent wind.

 

**Commissioner Winchester**

> lokirogers: samchuck, political au

Sam is a pillar in the community, a well-known attorney, he serves on the board at their neighborhood center, he attends all the committee meetings for the freshwater council - but politics, pure, uncut politics – Chuck loves his husband, he just isn’t sure he has that much of a cutthroat inside of him, like, he knew that Sam’s career was leading up to this, he knew that Sam had hoped to run for a County seat someday, but maybe he just hasn’t seen Sam put on his courtroom face enough because he’s worried what the pressure and glad-handing will do to him.

It hurts when Sam tries to turn it around - when Chuck finally (and reluctantly) expresses some of his concerns and Sam says, “Are you sure this isn’t about you not being ready to go to all these events with me and having your name in the paper and-”

Chuck scoffs because, “Dude, my name is already in the paper,” it’s a pseudonym, but whatever - he’s literally a part of the press, so he knows how rough this can get and he… alright, maybe he’s not a fan of public appearances, yeah, and he’s a little worried that Sam will give too many people the benefit of the doubt and that, for his own part, Chuck will be inclined to write rash pieces in his husband’s defense for the paper.

But they don’t have to worry about it - Chuck should have known, everybody loves Sam, and he damn well knows how to defend himself; not in the snappy way his debate opponent does, but in a more quiet, menacing, calculated way that makes everyone in the public think he’s a controlled professional - and reminds Chuck that he married a scary fucker who isn’t afraid to shoot him bedroom eyes across the community center cafeteria while he’s lecturing the other guy about the realities of commercial zoning.

 

**Alligator**

> inthebackoftheimpala: Chuck, alligators

He moved down here with the expectation that he’d spend the days on the beach writing and getting progressively more wasted, but he was under a real delusion about the amount of heat, property values, and the way civilization had viciously encroached on the habitat of the wildlife - like the fucking ants are the size of Chap Stick tubes and the roaches are the size of oranges, so once he came to accept that, it wasn’t surprising to come home to his crappy little bungalow to see an alligator practically ringing his doorbell. The surprise, rather, came  _later_ , when the animal control guys showed up: one was narrow-eyed and surly and packing heat and the other was taller and more cautious and, bafflingly,… kinder.

Okay so– soooooo– it was the baby talk that did it, kind of: the way the tall one was sweet and quiet and spoke to the alligator like she were a frightened dog in need of help - that, exactly, is what did it for Chuck; that’s why he comes over to “meet” her once she’s locked in the truck and why he expresses concern for the alligator and asks for Sam’s card to follow up on her condition and… why he ends up dating the guy who baby-talks vicious reptiles.

 

**House Hunting**

> outpastthemoat: 3sau: samxchuck, house hunting

Sam’s had enough of this shit - he stops their sixth house tour of the day to ask the realtor if they can have a moment in private to discuss something and, as soon as the guy’s out back, he whirls to Chuck, “You gonna tell me what’s up, or….” he leans in, shrugs, and doesn’t let up an inch, until Chuck is squirming from the scrutiny.

“I think…” he gulps, “I think we should get the one…” his eyes dart around and he seems to give up, “god, Sam, I don’t know, this is just so much, right now, like– like what if we spend all this money and we move in and we buy all this furniture and you- you– you don’t… what if you don’t, like,  _like me_  as much as when we said we were gonna buy a house-”

“Okay, alright, stop right the fuck there,” Sam takes a deep breath because he honestly thought Chuck had clammed up either because he thought all the houses were ugly or he was changing his mind about moving to Kansas, “You are not the one I have a question about in this whole… this whole  _ordeal_ ,” he waves his hand to encompass the whole week they’ve been at this and the whole city they’ve been scouring. “And if I’ve gotta prove that,” he decides, and grabs Chuck’s hand and leads him upstairs, back to the bedroom and the balcony that he at least admitted was pretty nice, and when they’re out there again, he does what he’s been waiting a long time for, even if they’re not in their perfect house, yet, and kneels down and pulls the box from his pocket.

 

**Space Travel**

> murderfeathers: sam/chuck, space travel au? (if you're still taking these)

When this short, sort of fuzzy guy comes around with a bag full of stuff and glasses sliding down his face, it’s a good thing Dean isn’t around to laugh at him; a good thing Sam’s the one staying there, making repairs on the  _Impala_  before they fly off again, and he’s the one who sees him when he stands up and turns around, wipes the sweat out of his eyes, pushes his hair back.

“Uh, hi,” he starts, “by any chance are you hot– I MEAN– are you taking on new passengers, because I was looking for a ride on your- I mean a ride out to, um,–” the guy shakes himself, “WOW, OKAY, LISTEN, you’re intimidatingly tall and hot and I need a ride, and like, I will literally blow you for a ride – mostly because I’m desperate – and then I’ll probably do it again for free, so, any chance you have a place on your ship?”

Sam sputters for a minute and then shakes himself, walks down the bay door, offers his hand to help the guy step up and into the ship, “I’ll consider the blowjob, but right now I’d settle for a name,” and, yes, definitely a good thing Dean isn’t here to laugh at either of them, because when Chuck stutters his name and shakes his hand and neither of them really let go at the appropriate time, anyone witnessing could confirm they are  _dorks_ pretty much meant for one another.

 

**Farmer’s Market**

> Anonymous: ChuckxSam, farmers market

“Oh, here he is,” Dean says, “this is the guy I was telling you about - he basically buys up all the apples we can’t use and makes booze out of ‘em,” he explains to his brother, “so he brings me some of the batch,” Dean nods, like,  _nice, right?_

Sam shrugs and gets up to help Dean move the crates– almost running over the dude who’s there for them, and, shit, he stumbles all over himself, apologizes, doesn’t wanna hurt the guy and doesn’t wanna lose Dean’s business over his giant limbs.

Chuck’s alright, not bruised and, better yet, the glass bottles he’s carrying undamaged – but he only takes one crate for the day… and comes back the next and the next for each separate crate, because, well, he hears that Dean’s brother is gonna be in town for a while and maybe he’s hoping he has a shot at tasting some of his own hard cider on Sam’s lips, you know, eventually.

 

**Archaeologist**

> murderfeathers: sam x chuck, archaeologists

There are times of year when Chuck makes an agreement with a few select professors across the country to come with students and dig on his wide, lonely swathe of land; he allows them to set up equipment and tents, stay and do bonfires and drink because, hell, he does more irresponsible shit on his own, in his house, on a daily basis, so as long as the cops don’t come, who is he to judge?

There’s a tall student, Sam, who comes back for his third year, really dedicated to what he’s learning and can’t stand for Chuck not to know the amazing samples and fossils they’ve found on his land - he could listen to the guy prattle on for hours, really.

It’s gonna be his last year with professor Turner’s team, he’s graduating, and that makes Chuck kinda sad - he’s seen Sam two months out of each year and he’d hate to never see him again, so he makes sure that Sam knows he doesn’t need an invite or a professor to come back, he’s welcome any time – and when Sam takes him up on it, there will be a tall bed in the house for him, instead of a dusty tent.

 

**Sword & Sorcery**

> hisroyalhellishness: CrowleyxBobby, in WW1? or SamxChuck, sword and sorcery kinda shenanigans?

Chuck grips his hair and scrubs at it rough and tugs on it and sighs and rolls his eyes and finally stands because, “This is unbelievable - I don’t understand how you can’t feel how powerful you are, I mean, I’m not even that good of a fucking sorcerer and I can feel it, like,  _shake me at my core_  the closer I get to you.”

Sam’s shoulders drop and he finally stops swinging the sword, stops trying to make it glow and flame up and be the thing of legend that will banish evil from the earth because, really, seriously, he fucking  _can’t_  feel it, “A little help maybe, man, I mean, I’m just a jerk who got dosed with monster blood, I have no idea how to access it and like  _force_ myself to be worthy of wielding this thing,” his voice goes high because he’s desperate for answers at this point.

Chuck rolls his eyes again, plods over, pushes his sword arm away and comes up close, only to yank him down by the back of the neck and breathe in his air super close and–  _crap_ , Sam thinks, staring into his eyes,  _maybe I do feel it_  and– then Chuck’s eyes close and Sam’s do, too, and– maybe he  _can_ feel it because– Chuck kisses him and… he feels the heat rise, a swelling of power at his hand, and he has to decide if it’s more important to hold on to the weapon or the wizard.

 

**Grocery Store Line**

> outpastthemoat: Chuck and Sam in the grocery store line AU

“There was no stick,” Sam calls across the parking lot, and it makes the short guy turn too quickly, bump his head on his open trunk and hiss in pain, “Oh my god, shit, sorry!” Sam kinda jogs over though he doesn’t really know what he’s gonna do to help; he just lamely hands the bag over and repeats, “There was no stick, no, um, divider for the conveyor belt, so, um, you left some stuff behind and I got it,” he insists that the guy take the bag off his hands, “sorry about your head.”

He blinks, rubs at a spot under his hair, and does accept it, “Did you pay- I mean obviously you did, I can pay you back–”

Sam waves him off, “No I mean it’s kind of the perfect opening, I mean, the perfect opportunity to introduce myself - I’m Sam and, uh,” he laughs, “judging by your groceries I was wondering… if you’re single… aaaand if you wanted to go… on a date?”

 

**Orchid Enthusiasts**

> outpastthemoat: Chuck and Sam as orchid enthusiasts AU

For Chuck it started with colors, he has so many now, and just because they’re beautiful and because he wanted beauty in his life. When he finally asks Sam, he gets some vague answer about a florist.

In reality, he’d gone to the flower shop to buy roses, to take them to Ruby at her job and make a spectacle of himself, apologizing, groveling, trying to tell her she’ll come before his job and his family from now on - but he saw Chuck at the flower shop and Chuck never required him to do those things – with Chuck, putting their relationship first has always come naturally, because Chuck made Sam realize he wanted beautiful things in his life, too.

 

**Afternoon Thunderstorm**

> outpastthemoat: Chuck and Sam stuck at home during an afternoon thunderstorm AU

There was a lot on their to-do list but, when the sky opened up, neither of them really felt like slogging through the downpour to go run errands so… home it is, and the power cuts out as Chuck is making nachos in the oven and they were at least gonna catch up on the last couple eps of a tv show so, “Now what do we do?”

Sam thought that answer was kind of obvious, really: he sneaks up behind Chuck, takes the bag of chips out of his hands and starts kissing down his neck, eventually gets him stripped down in front of the big window and they make love under the lightning, the raging rain and thunder, loud in their own right and soaking each other as the summer heat and humidity dissolves the last of the cool air left after the power dropped out.

They end up having to cool off by pulling their boxers back on and sitting out on the back step, just under the rain, still tugging each other around for wet kisses and just listening to the storm roll out.

 

**UPS Guy**

> femmechester: Always the classic receptionist/delivery dude.

Chuck pops up from behind the counter, flattening his tie down, obviously a little too eager when the UPS guy gets there, “Hi” he greets and, as per usual:

“Good morning,” the guy says before handing over today’s packages, “wanna make sure I got these right?”

Chuck barely glances, sees the senior staffs’ names and nods, signs for them with a shaky hand and his voice betrays him, too as he asks, “um, so you get my name every time you come here - can I have yours?”

He pauses in his usual hustle to get in and out and, for the first time, blinks at him, looking  _at_ Chuck instead of through him and takes back the tablet and stylus, extending his other hand, “Sam,” he says kind of wondering, “I didn’t mean to be rude, Chuck-”

“No, I know, you have a route, you’re busy, but- I mean, maybe sometime if you-”

“Yes, definitely-”

“I… haven’t even-”

Sam shrugs, “Still: definitely yes.”

 

**Toll Booth**

> femmechester: Toll booth operator

He puts out his hand one day and touches something warm and, like, your first reaction is ‘oh, sorry I touched your hand,’ but this is– not a hand, this is, “Sir, you’re handing me your coffee,” he says like  _hellooooo??_

But the guy in the car only nods, “You look like you could use it. I’ve got my fifty cents, too - here,” and he will only give Chuck the fifty cents if he takes the coffee, so Chuck takes the coffee and then the change and then the guy pulls up so he just has to hit the button and let him go.

He stops bringing his own coffee after a while, because this guy buys from one of those mom-n-pop shops and it’s made with love instead of corporate beans (or at least tastes like it) and eventually he asks if Chuck takes cream or sugar and he says sugar and eventually it comes with a name on the side and he can say, “Thanks, Sam,” and “Good morning, Sam,” and smile at him and one day the cup comes with a napkin with a number on it and when Sam picks him up, he forgets to hide his prepaid fast-pass in the glove compartment and Chuck laughs and laughs.

 

**Pilot Sam**

> femmechester: Pilot Chuck and flight attendant Sam.  
>  (a/n I accidentally did the opposite.)

Sam has never thought that “office” romances were a good idea, but then, he’s never before been attracted to anybody at work - it was so easy to scoff, to laughingly caution his fellow pilots and subordinate staff… and now he’s on an overseas hop with paid leave ahead of him in New Zealand – just like Chuck, their newest guy on staff.

He transferred to their rounds a couple months ago and sometimes Sam can go entire days without seeing him but everyone on the plane is asleep, there are no problems, and the guy Sam is seconding for keeps calling for Chuck to bring them fresh coffee - Sam can’t seem to escape him today and he knows their leave time is a coincidence and that Chuck isn’t actually giving him *hot* looks and that pilots and the attendant staff SERIOUSLY don’t fuck around on the regular like they do on tv… but the quarters are tight and even if he’s not giving Sam *eyes*, he’s still smiling at him, crinkled and genuine– and, yes, very attractive.

Sam thinks about it, when he gets up to use the restroom, but he knows how old and filthy this plane is, only he doesn’t expect, as he comes back, for Chuck to be the only one in the service area when he passes back through, so he stops for coffee and to ask, “So, you’re gonna be grounded for a while, too-”

“We can at least make out and decide if we wanna bunk together when we get there,” Chuck interrupts, and pushes Sam back and draws his head down and knocks his hat askew to get at his hair and–

Kisses the hell out of Sam until they hear the rustle of an approaching service cart and detach, and Sam suddenly finds himself flushed and short of breath and scrambling back into the cockpit like every pilot he’s ever seen trying to pretend he wasn’t just trying for a quickie with a hostess.

 

**Guitar on the Quad**

> outpastthemoat: Sam/Chuck "I keep seeing you on the quad playing acoustic guitar medleys looking super adorable" au

He isn’t busking - Sam can tell because he doesn’t keep the case open; and it doesn’t seem like he’s practicing because he’s already really fucking good, like, he can’t imagine someone would practice in public, anyway, but, really, he sings softly, sometimes, closes his eyes and sways and, on occasion, seriously jams out – it seems like he’s just there, playing guitar, because he wants to be, and that’s really beautiful-he–  _he’s_  really beautiful.

Crowds sit on the quad at a distance, eating and studying, but nobody settles too close - occasionally someone will clap, or sit to have a cigarette nearby and nod at him when they’re done and say “good stuff, man” – Sam, though, doesn’t stop and sit and listen until, one day, he’s passing and he hears the opening chords to Stairway and… he has to pull out his phone; records it and posts it to IG so his brother will see it (Dean  _would_  appreciate it and later tells him the playing is stellar).

When he’s done, Sam claps and raises the phone again to keep recording, asks his name so it can be on the video when he’s famous one day - the guy laughs, “Chuck,” he says, “I can’t believe Zeppelin is what got you to finally stop and ask,” and he laughs more when Sam lowers the phone, blushing.

 

**Animagus Sam**

> murderfeathers: sam x chuck animagi au

As a fully registered, legal animagus, Sam is obligated to do this and to say he’s terrified is… just a  _drastic understatement_ , because he and Chuck are so new and this really never ends well: Sam has to tell people - has to disclose to the people who hire him, live with him, sign documents with him, and, yes, share rent with and get married to him, that he can magically turn himself into a damn animal and that always raises delicate (and strange and  _offensive_ ) questions and he isn’t ready…. but he has to be. He has to be ready to have this conversation because, yes, they’re new at being together, but he’s never felt so excited to see someone at the end of the day, when he wakes up in the morning,  _last thing before he goes to sleep_  – all of it, and he knows he will want to ask Chuck to share the rent and… maybe more, you know, depending on how this goes.

Chuck is familiar with the concept, at least, though he’s from a muggle family, he grew up in the wizarding world and one of his old roommates put in for (but failed) animagus training – what does shock him, shocks both of them, really, is the petting – Sam loves  _loves **loves**_ to be pet, and he had no idea, never allowed it from anyone, but when they turn that corner in their relationship, sometimes he will change just so he can settle his head in Chuck’s lap and nuzzle at him until Chuck pets and pets him and runs his hands through his soft fur, putting them both at ease in a strange, but totally comforting way.

 

**Bank Vault**

> murderfeathers: sam x chuck, armored truck driver/bank teller au

He carries a gun and Chuck has always been very anti-gun until this very important, life-changing, hypocritical moment because he’s strapped with it like he’s been carrying it since birth – he wears it well and he seems to have refused to wear the silly hat that the rest of the guys in his company wear and… it’s a good thing that machines count all the bills and coins around here because Chuck gets so distracted when he walks in that he almost gives someone twenty fives instead of twenty singles and that could get dicey real quick.

Chuck also knows how heavy those cash bags are so when the new guy carries all four in by himself he’s already ogling him, to say nothing of the moment when Chuck steps away from his station to go get the vault code and then gets to…. follow that ass in,… and watch him bend over and set the bags down and bend over and pick up the box of coins they’re sending away and bend over to retrieve the key that’s slipped from Chuck’s numb fingers, watches the tight stretch of his uniform shirt over his broad shoulders as he stands.

Chuck reads “Sam” on the front of his uniform - Sam waits for his eyes to come back up to his face to cock a smile at him, “Hi,” he presses the key deliberately into Chuck’s palm and shakes his hand and-

well, he tries to respond but that big, firm, warm hand is–

“We can start with your name,” Sam prompts, “you are….”

“…. p–ossibly gonna get fired for making out in a locked room on the job,” Chuck mumbles.

 

**House Plants**

> Anonymous: Sam/Chuck, house plants

When Chuck moves in, he brings his entire life with him – that’s not to say he has a massive house-full of stuff; in fact, he doesn’t have much at all and the furniture was too old to bother keeping, so his books are squeezed into Sam’s shelves to mingle with his own and, if that doesn’t choke him up enough, Chuck ever so gently eases his plants into Sam’s space.

They are mostly leafy things, not so many are flowery; some of them quite vine-like, and Chuck carefully introduces them to Sam’s shelves, guides the limbs he’d untangled at his apartment onto new shelves and wire racks and he even curls one up a lamp like he knows they’ll become fast friends.

Sam loves it – he asks if he should water them and Chuck shows him how, when to move the peace lily into the sunlight by the porch, and how tall the rosemary should be before they can start using it in the cooking; so even when Chuck is out with friends or away visiting his folks, it feels like he’s left some of himself behind to keep Sam company - it feels like he can still take care of Chuck even from afar.

 

**Flight Delays**

> murderfeathers: sam x chuck, meet for the first time in an airport because there's a bad storm in the area and both their flights got delayed

Sam wants to watch the storm because it’s really quite beautiful, something so massive stopping man’s plans in their tracks, and sometimes the floor-to-ceiling windows just white out with how hard it’s coming down; the occasional flash of lighting will illuminate things for a split second, then a rattling clap of thunder will make all the babies in the terminal cry (he’s hoping they cry themselves out before any of them get on his flight).

Another man is just two seats down from him doing the same, legs crossed at the ankles, casually cool and kinda compact and wiry and cute, and Sam must glance over one too many times because he finally offers this crinkled-up family-sized bag of pretzels and they just share a snack and watch like this is some riveting television or something.

“Salty,” Sam finally comments, and he knows it’s lame, but they’re literally just staring at rain, so he can’t think of anything else, “um, lemme buy you a drink to go with this,” he offers, and if the little smile and the ‘okay’ give him hope, that’s nothing compared to what it feels like when they both accept a later flight for credit and spend another two hours together, then a long flight home in their new seats, sharing drinks and thoughts and getting to know one another - wondering what it would be like to split a cab out of the airport, and… maybe back to his place.

 

**Biker Gang**

> ozonecologne: *waves shyly* sam/chuck, biker gang?

He knows he isn’t welcome here - that’s been well-established - but he has an article to write and he’s interviewed drug dealers, mafia punks, arms runners, and kept their anonymity, and that’s the key: these guys don’t want their names attached to their crimes and that’s fine, Chuck just wants to tell their stories, tell why and how they got here, because it’s interesting and he needs to know and he needs to share stories like this.

A pair of brothers run the local MOLs and word is that they just took over recently, reviving the gang from the far-flung scraps it used to be into more of a band of neighborhood defenders - they scare the mafia guys so they won’t run single moms out of their homes, they harass politicians so they know they’re being held accountable, they beat molesters to death; so it isn’t a pretty business despite being a sort of vigilante justice thing – and Chuck’s just hooked on the idea.

The younger brother, Sam, lets him shadow him for the week, makes sure he stays out of real danger and keeps him from witnessing anything he could really testify to - and then, all at once, it’s over, and he needs to get back to the real world and carefully construct this magazine piece for the public to see… only Sam comes around, still, makes sure he’s okay since he doesn’t live on the best side of town, and sometimes they still go riding, because Chuck instantly misses the feeling of sitting behind Sam, leaning into him, protected from the wind and roaring down the highway.

 

**Hiking**

> tarastarr1: 3 sentence prompt: Sam/Chuck, hiking?

Chuck isn’t an  _outside_ type of person but there’s something he’s wanted to do his whole life, and he’s got no obligations while he’s between jobs so…. it’s time to get it done, especially since being unemployed means he has no money - he won’t be forfeiting a comfy night in a hotel room by sleeping in his car on the journey if he simply can’t even afford a hotel room - nice, right?

It’s a couple days and nights of travel until he gets to White Sands National Monument and he thinks about just going for it, again - as he hikes out on the dunes, he thinks about breaking his lease and finding a new life in the southern US, somewhere the skies are endless and the colors are vivid and the… people are…. hot…. his thoughts trail away from him and he swigs his water to make sure he’s not just seeing things: a tall guy, long hair, chasing and playing with his dog as they hike up high and pause to look out on the horizon.

He visibly pauses when he turns and looks out on Chuck and he smiles and sort of waves and Chuck realizes he has to do this again and again, this hiking thing, complete with heat and sweating and aching and bugs and maybe there’s more meaning in it with someone by your side, sharing the view, smiling… the dog comes down to sniff around Chuck so the guy follows to retrieve it and introduces himself as Sam.

 

**Beards**

> Anonymous: 3 sentence prompt: Sam/Chuck, beards

Vacation ends tomorrow and, as Sam’s time off comes to an end, so does his short beard and the anonymity it gave him in the gay clubs in this resort town, where he’s been free to dance with, laugh with, hook up with and kiss on other guys without any of the anxiety he grew up with at home– and as this ends, so does his stint in college, since a return to the real world, to everyday life, demands a clean look, a clean record, and realistic expectations of a settled life with a job and maybe some kind of tolerable relationship his father will approve of.

It had to be, of course – just  _had to be_  – his last night in town that he unearthed a gem from beneath the seething crowds, sweating, drinking, and dancing, coming upon this guy named Chuck, small and soft, nervous but charming, and finally took somebody back to his hotel room to treat himself just this one, last time.

It’s so unfair, getting up in the morning and shaving feels somehow like pulling on a mask, and he cleans up, packs, and makes coffee quietly, just so he can spend one last hour sneaking long looks over the beautiful, sleeping man he wishes he could take home with him who–

blinks awake, as he’s pouring two mugs, and smiles, even seeing Sam so changed, from last night: “Wow, there you are, gorgeous,” he admires Sam right back and there’s no hiding his heated face.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited to add one of the responses that was missing. Any further additions will be saved for another chapter entry of the same "fic" (which, yes, means you can continue to prompt me, I am a thirsty hoe).


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